


How to Seduce Your Dom and Deal with The Consequences: A Guide by Bucky Barnes

by Kellyscams



Series: D/s Fun With Steve and Bucky [3]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Domestic, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rope Bondage, Seduction, Sub Bucky Barnes, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyscams/pseuds/Kellyscams
Summary: It's date night.Steve is on the phone.Bucky decides to get his attention in the best way he knows how.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: D/s Fun With Steve and Bucky [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772500
Comments: 28
Kudos: 238





	How to Seduce Your Dom and Deal with The Consequences: A Guide by Bucky Barnes

It’s date night. 

Popcorn’s made and two glasses of wine are sitting on the coffee table and there’s a movie all queued up ready to be watched. Bucky’s in his comfy sweats and one of Steve’s old T-shirts. He’s got himself his nice fluffy blanket so he can curl up in Steve’s arms. There’s only one thing missing.

Steve.

Bucky sighs and looks over the back of the couch where he’s been waiting for more than twenty minutes already. Over at the table, Steve is on the phone. 

They’d just sat down together when it rang. Steve had glanced at it and then, much to Bucky’s disappointment, said he should probably just take it. Even though it was well past five-thirty and date night. 

“I’ll just be a minute,” Steve had said. “I’ll be right back.”

Yet here they are. Coming up on a full thirty minutes since Steve answered and he doesn’t seem to be wrapping it up any time soon. He hasn’t gone into his office so it can’t be a very serious discussion. In fact, he’s not even taking any notes or writing anything down. He’s even had a few good laughs. At this point, it sounds more like a friendly conversation than a work call. 

When Steve notices that he’s being watched, he gives Bucky a look. One Bucky recognizes. He can practically hear Steve’s almost-stern voice. _Be_ patient _, little one_. But Bucky doesn’t _want_ to be patient. He’s waited a whole month for this night and he wants his date night _now_. Still, Steve goes right on chatting. Just chatting. Which Bucky decides moments later is very much not fair and if Steve is going to put a hold on their night, then he will, too. 

Bucky gets up, tosses his fluffy blanket to the side, and leaves the living room for the bedroom. Hands on his hips, he tries to decide what he’d like to do while Steve is otherwise preoccupied. He considers maybe getting one of his collars even though he’s not supposed to put one on by himself. Maybe the white one with a matching leash. Go back out there with the collar very loosely around his neck and the leash attached so he can swing the handle in gentle circles. Get a little rise out of his Dom who’s more interested in whoever he’s on the phone with. 

But that might be pushing a little too much. Bucky’s not looking to really be punished. Last thing he wants on date night is to be sent to his corner or made to write lines. He scowls just at the thought. Besides, he wants to be good. He might push for a little attention, but he still wants to be good. 

So Bucky forgets about the collar and glances around the room for inspiration. Something that’ll without a doubt grab Steve’s attention. Something a _little_ shocking but not too bratty. Something…something… 

Something like the yoga mat rolled up in a corner. A lightbulb goes off over Bucky’s head. There’s a reason one of his daily rules is that he’s not allowed in Steve’s office while he’s working. Steve calls him a distraction. By looks alone. Which is wonderfully flattering but right now Bucky can use that to his advantage. 

Bucky reaches behind him to tug his shirt off and tosses it on the bed while he goes to his dresser. He trades his most comfy sweats for a pair that are slightly tight on his now. A white pair. Which just so happens to be Steve’s favorite on him which is why Bucky’s never gotten rid of them even though they shrunk a bit in the laundry a few years ago. Before pulling them on, he strips out of his boxer shorts. Another perk of the color and tightness is that these pants leave little to the imagination. 

Not bothering to put his shirt back on, Bucky grabs the mat and heads back to where Steve is _still_ on the phone. He doesn’t even notice that Bucky’s come back. Bucky stops a short distance from the table he’s sitting at and waits for just a second.

“Oh you’re kidding me,” Steve is saying with a laugh. “That really is ridiculous.” 

Bucky decides it’s time to let Steve know he’s there and he makes a show of quickly opening the yoga mat. At first, Steve takes a quick glance at him and goes on with his conversation. 

“Yeah, I know, I--” His eyes go wide and he swings his gaze back to Bucky like he’s already ready to pounce. “I…I’m sorry…could you…” Steve, mouth agape, looks over Bucky’s body. “What? I’m sorry, could…could you repeat that?” 

Bucky smirks and whispers, “I’ll just do some stretching until you’re done.” 

With Steve’s stunned and astonished eyes still on him, Bucky turns so that his back is to him and he slowly bends down to reach his toes. Behind him, Steve is so silent that Bucky can actually hear whoever he’s on the phone with speaking right now. He can’t make out what they’re saying, but he can hear their muffled voice followed by a strained sound from Steve. 

A grin touches Bucky’s lips as he walks his hand out in front of him to move into downward facing dog and Steve once again can’t exactly get his words out.

“Y-yeah…I think I…um…” He clears his throat and Bucky chuckles to himself, proud that he seems to have short-circuited his Dom’s brain. “S-say that…again…please.” 

Bringing his knees to the floor and letting his arms sliding out in front of him, Bucky moves into the extended puppy, a pose that really lifts his ass up in the air. When he adjusts this one, he makes sure to breathe out a little louder than necessary. Upright, Bucky tucks his right leg in and leans over his left, reaching for his toes. After he stretches his right leg as well, Bucky decides to give Steve an even better show by turning again and spreading his legs so he can reach in front of him in a wide-angle forward bend. 

“Yeah, y’know what?” Steve says then, clearly interrupting whatever was being said. “I think I’m gonna have to call you back tomorrow. Something’s suddenly…come up.”

Bucky peers up through his lashes and smirks at Steve’s oh-so-subtle innuendo. He’s not wrong, either. Through Steve’s pants, he can see that he’s more than just a little aroused by Bucky’s little show. Since Steve’s now saying his farewells, Bucky sits up and waits. 

“Okay, yes. Yeah, same to you. All right. Bye.” 

Steve ends the call and releases a heavy sigh. Before looking at Bucky, he lowers his head and huffs out a soft snicker. When he does look at Bucky, his eyes are dark and heated. 

“ _You_ ,” he growls. “Bedroom. _Now_.”

White hot excitement strikes Bucky’s belly as he hops to his feet and hurries to follow Steve’s orders and get to the bedroom as fast as he can. Behind him, he hears Steve fly out of his chair and the chair possibly tumbling over in the process. 

The very second Bucky makes it into the bedroom, Steve is grabbing his wrist and tugging him back. He slams the door shut and then pushes Bucky against it. Steve, gathering both of Bucky’s hands in one of his and forcing them above his head, pins him to the door with his hip. That alone is enough to get Bucky’s dick to swell. 

Steve lunges in for his lips, capturing his mouth in a strong, unyielding kiss that makes Bucky moan and whimper and groan all at once. His attempt to roll his hips is thwarted by Steve snatching him by the waist with his free hand and pushing him back. 

By the time Steve _stops_ kissing him--pulling away only to start sucking on the side of his neck--they’re both breathless and panting. His nose skims right behind Bucky’s ear and his tongue sneaks out when his mouth glides across his clavicles and his hand keeps caressing his side. Bucky tilts his head back, inviting more. _Begging_ for more without words.

“I bet you think you’re very clever, little one,” Steve murmurs, coating Bucky in so much dominance he shudders beneath it. “Isn’t that right?”

“Well, I just figured, sir,” Bucky says as he tries to catch his breath, “that if you needed to be on the phone, it’d be okay if I did something, too.” 

Their faces are very, _very_ close, but Steve is sure not to let them actually touch. His hot breath wafts across Bucky’s mouth. When Bucky attempts to steal himself a kiss, Steve pulls away just enough so that he can’t. 

“And you decided to do something that you knew would get me all hot and bothered, huh?”

“I didn’t think it’d hurt.” Bucky gives him a mischievous shrug. “It’s not _my_ fault I’m so irresistible.”

Steve clicks his tongue and chuckles darkly. “I guess not. And you are _simply_ irresistible.” 

Steve’s hand suddenly appears between Bucky’s legs and he grabs what he finds waiting for him, squeezing just on the right side of painful and not letting go. Bucky yelps because of it and his head knocks back into the door he’s pressed against. 

“Oh, Steve…” Bucky groans. “Shit, that feels so good…”

“I bet it does.” Steve, still gripping him, adds a few flicks of his fingers to his testicles. “How ‘bout that?” 

Yes, that. That, too. Bucky’s just having some trouble voicing that beyond the hiss that makes it past his clenched teeth. He tries to catch his breath which is a little easier when Steve lets go. Lips still sucking little red marks along Bucky’s skin, Steve makes his way across his chest and then releases the hold he’s had on his hands. As soon as they’re free, Bucky starts to let them drop only to be stopped by Steve’s fierce glare. 

“You keep those arms up there, little one.” 

His voice alone is enough to make Bucky’s knees buckle. Bucky manages to remain upright, albeit mostly by luck, and keeps his arms raised above his head. 

“Now,” Steve murmurs. “You stay _right_ where I’ve put you. _No_ moving.” 

Lips folding, Bucky nods in agreement even with the butterflies tickling the inside of his belly. That’s the sort of order that drives him wild with desire. Bondage with words, is what Steve calls it. Whenever Bucky’s physically restrained, he can squirm and tug. Feel that resistance. When Steve gives him this mental challenge, it’s a lot tougher. Because, of course, the second Steve tells him _not_ to move that’s all he wants to do. 

Especially when Steve begins to slide down to his knees in front of him. This puts his mouth right at the brim of Bucky’s sweats. He takes full advantage of this and bites there, gently pulling them down. Bucky could easily help. A few twists and squirms and his pants would be down by his ankles. 

He’s not _allowed_ to, though. Steve’s told him not to move so he needs to stand here with his arms straight--or as straight as he can get them--over his head while Steve takes his time pulling them down with his friggin teeth and at this point Bucky’s so hard that he’s surprised he hasn’t actually burst through them. 

By the time Steve’s worked them down enough for the tip of Bucky’s erection to appear, his knees are practically knocking together and his toes are curling into the carpet. He desperately wants to drop his hands down onto Steve’s head to feel him there. 

Steve let's him feel it in his own way. Today, his own way happens to be nuzzling his nose against Bucky's crotch and then licking just the very tip of his dick. This feeling alone nearly has Bucky tumbling forward. Steve even has to snatch hold of his hip to pin him back again and, uh oh, that might cost him.

"Do that again," he scolds, "and I'm gonna tie you to the bed."

While being tied to the bed is normally something Bucky would jump at, if it's a consequence of not following directions then Steve'll make him regret it. He’s had him on the edge and sobbing for release for hours. Steve definitely knows how to dish out the best sorts of torture. 

Bucky bites his lip. Whimpers. Says, “Yes, sir.” 

“Don’t make me tell you again, little one.” 

With his hands now, Steve lowers Bucky’s pants to his knees. Even though Bucky can’t exactly see him, he’s pretty sure he’s smiling as he kisses up his inner thigh. His lips trail along his belly just shy of ticking him. He then kisses down his other thigh and doesn't bother with anything in between. 

He does this again and again until Bucky's trembling and a crown of sweat dots his brow. As Steve continues his kissing he reaches into his own pants and whatever he does to himself makes him groan with his lips still pressed to Bucky’s body. 

“I am going to fuck you, little one,” he murmurs, almost sweetly, when his tongue ghosts across the tip of Bucky’s dick again. “I’m gonna fuck you all night long.” Steve gives Bucky’s cock one long lick from base to tip and Bucky drops his head back again. “And when I’m _not_ fucking you,” he growls, “I’m pushing a plug inside of you so that you’re _always_ ready for me. Got it?”

“Mm.” Bucky almost bites his tongue. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” 

Steve suddenly wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and hoists him over his shoulder. Caught completely off guard, Bucky gasps and yelps and then dissolves into a fit of giggles. Those giggles fade into a groan when Steve slaps his hand across his ass. Fast. Hard. And more than once but Bucky’s so caught up in the sensation that he can’t tell how many and if he keeps it up…

“Steve, please!” he exclaims. “Steve, no, no, I’m gonna come!”

“Don’t.” He slaps again. “You.” And again. “ _Dare_.” One last time and Bucky howls in frustration, desperate to hold in his release. 

“Oh, _sir_ …please…”

But Steve just ignores his pleas and dumps Bucky onto the bed which actually helps him gain better control over that impending orgasm. He gets a moment to catch his breath, too, since Steve has disappeared. 

Panting, Bucky lifts his head up and looks for him. Turns out he’s over by the wardrobe. Most likely selecting necessities for whatever it is that he intends to do to Bucky next. He returns with a bottle of lube, a blue collar with the heart-shaped lock, and one of their larger sized plugs. Other than the collar--which Steve gently locks around Bucky’s neck--they all end up next to him. When Steve towers over him again, he smirks and fits his hand to Bucky’s cheek. 

“Who do you belong to, Bucky Barnes?”

“I belong to _you_ ,” Bucky whispers, tingling all over, “Steve Rogers.” 

“That’s right.” Steve adjusts his hand so that he can hold Bucky’s chin between his thumb and fingers. “And what’s the most important thing to remember?”

“That you love me, sir,” he says, “and that you’ll always take care of me and give me what I need.” 

“And should anything I ever do make you feel unsafe in any way?”

“I always have the power to make it stop with just one word.”

“Which is?”

“Yellow or red.”

“Good boy,” Steve murmurs. “Same orders as before. Arms above your head. _Don’t_ move.”

“Yes, sir.”

Arms already feeling both light and heavy at the same time, Bucky smiles and nods and does as he’s told. Steve positions Bucky’s feet at the edge of the bed and then lathers his index finger with the lube he brought over. He doesn’t seem very interested in wasting time with any teasing today, either, and works that finger into his body. It doesn’t take long before Bucky’s filled with three of Steve’s fingers, crying out and damn near sobbing Steve’s name for more.

He’s still got his arms stretched over his head like he’s supposed to, but he can’t help clenching and unclenching his fingers in his attempt not to move them. 

Between the stretch and the burn and the occasional but obviously intentional scrap of his prostate, Bucky just wails for more. More of anything Steve will give to him and as badly as he wants to come--and he does, oh, he really fucking does--he’ll wait until Steve says he can. And if he says he can’t then he won’t because he can be a good boy. He can. 

“You are, little one,” Steve says, and Bucky realizes, with a rush of embarrassment that matches the flush of arousal, that he’s been blubbering this out loud. “You’re a good boy. _My_ good boy.” 

He says this with an added twist of his fingers, allowing them to brush up against Bucky’s prostate one last time before he eases them out. Once his hand is away, he lines himself up but only nudges the tip of his fat cock against Bucky’s hole, circling it and pushing only a little without actually entering his body. 

“Oh, please, sir,” Bucky whines. “Don’t tease me…” 

Steve snickers and only pushes the head of his cock in before he pauses. He leans down and pecks a kiss to the tip of Bucky’s nose. 

“I really should make you wait,” he says. “But you _know_ I can’t after what you did and I _will_ make you pay. For now…” 

He pushes all the way in then and Bucky cries out with the delightful burn. With every thrust and thump into his body. With so much blissful abandon that he forgets not to move and throws his arms around to get him closer. It doesn’t seem to matter to Steve now since he just chuckles and nuzzles the spot between Bucky’s neck and shoulder. 

Still thrusting, Steve presses his brow against Bucky’s and covers him in kisses. He nibbles at the side of Bucky’s neck. Sucks at it. More and more until there are marks all over Bucky’s skin. Beneath him, Bucky trembles and pants, holding back as best he can as pleasure grows more and more and threatens to pulse through him any second now.

“Steve…” he groans. “Sir, I have to--”

“Not yet,” Steve growls right at his ear, nibbling at his lobe and then biting his neck with just enough strength to make him yelp. “You’ll wait until I say.”

“But--”

“ _No_.” Steve shoves is harder as though to make his point. “Be good, little one, and maybe I’ll let you come.” 

Bucky tilts his head back and wails some more. When he asks to come again, Steve doesn’t even bother answering. Which is an answer in and of itself. No. No, he can’t come yet and Bucky’s sure he’s never wanted to come so badly in his entire life. An exaggeration, probably, but right now it’s all he can think and it’s all he can feel and…and… 

“Oh, _please_ , sir, _please_ lemme come!” he exclaims. “I’ll be so good, I swear. I swear, I’ll be good, I _will_!” 

“I know you will be.” Steve doesn’t stop. He doesn’t give permission. He just keeps going. “But you will be even if I say no, won’t you?” Bucky only sobs in answers. “ _Won’t_ you?”

“Yes! Yes, I will, I will. I’ll be good, sir, I will.” Bucky sobs some more. “I promise, sir, I’ll be good.”

Without another word, Steve captures Bucky’s mouth with his own, thrusts once more, and then stiffens as he empties his own release into Bucky’s body. Still trembling, Bucky blubbers a little more about needing to come, a few tears slipping from his eyes. Steve lifts his head up and presses another kiss to his lips. 

“No,” Steve whispers, and then chuckles when Bucky whines some more. “You will, little one. Be patient. But for now.” 

First grabbing the plug he brought over, Steve eases out of him and then slips the plug inside so that none of his release can leak out. Somewhat aware that he’s whining, whimpering, and even weeping slightly, Bucky pouts and reaches out for Steve. As badly as Bucky does want to come, Wants to feel him close. Wants to feel that security he gets whenever Steve wraps his arms around him. 

Only Steve doesn’t lie down with him. He doesn’t pull Bucky into his arms or even plop down next to him. Instead, he pets a hand over his head a few times and then walks away from the bed. Rationally, somewhere inside of Bucky, he knows damn well that Steve isn’t actually leaving. He knows he’d never do that. 

His mind isn’t very interested in thinking rationally right now, not with the rest of his body burning with so much stimulation and need and want, and panic gushes through him. He even forgets that he can easily lift his head and look around to room for him. Bucky chokes on a sob and almost curls onto his side.

The only reason he doesn’t is the hand on his shoulder that stops him. Bucky, teary-eyed and sniffling, looks up to find Steve. He coaxes Bucky onto his back again and softly hushes him. 

“Sh, sh,” he comforts, petting a hand over Bucky’s head. “It’s all right, little one. I’m here.” 

Now that Steve’s back -- although to be fair, he’d only been out of Bucky’s sights for a second or two -- Bucky feels sort of ridiculous. That doesn’t stop these stupid tears, though, and Bucky crawls into Steve’s lap and sheds a few more. All the while, Steve comforts him. Hugs him. Kisses the top of his head.

“You’re okay, love,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

“Wh-where’d you go?”

“Just to get this.”

Steve picks something up to show him so Bucky lifts his head to see what it is. When he does this, Steve attaches something to the ring of Bucky’s collar. It takes a second for Bucky to realize it’s a leash. His eyes widen as Steve slowly draws him in by the end of it. The soft tug at the collar makes him sit up and as soon as he’s up, Steve kisses him. 

“Now,” Steve murmurs, not allowing Bucky to inch away even a little, “you can’t get anywhere without me.” He grins. Adds another kiss. “Are you okay, little one?”

“Mhm.” Bucky, tears gone now, smiles. His eyes flick down to his lap. He’s not exactly soft again but he has lost some of that thickness. His cock is no longer fat and swollen against his belly. That’s okay. As much as Bucky’d like to come, he’s very much okay with Steve deciding not to let him. “Yes, sir.”

Hand at the side of Bucky’s face, Steve chuckles and then pats the top of his head as he gets to his feet, bringing Bucky with him. Bucky, taking a second to get used to the plug inside of him, makes a little noise. 

“Don’t worry, little one,” Steve says. “I haven’t forgotten about you. And it’s still date night, right? Here.” He scoops up the pants that Bucky changed into earlier. “You can put these back on for me.”

A grin teases Bucky’s mouth as he does just that. When they’re on again, the outline of Bucky’s growing arousal is very evident. Steve even rubs his hand over him. Gently, but enough that it makes him get harder still. 

“Now tell me you love me, little one,” Steve teases. “Even though I haven’t let you come yet.” 

Bucky, head as his face flushes, let's out a soft giggle. It's amazing how easily comforted he is just by Steve's love. He wonders if how much they love each other is a little pathetic. Maybe it is. That's just fine. Bucky wouldn't trade this for the world.

"I love you, sir," he says, and means it in every way possible. 

"Even though I haven't let you come yet?"

"Even though you haven't let me come yet."

"Good boy." Steve chuckles and then starts for the door. "Come on, little one. Let's go have our date."

***

Steve makes good on his promise to let Bucky come. Of course, it doesn’t happen until much later in the night, but he does. There's a ton of teasing beforehand. Steve never allows Bucky's cock to get soft. He even pauses the movie halfway through to bend him over the arm of the couch and fuck him for a bit. Neither of them come that time.

It isn't until after the movie and snacks and not-so-innocent cuddles that Bucky finally gets to have his release. Steve leads him by the leash back to the bedroom where he fucks him again. Into the mattress. Rolling around in the sheets. Several different positions. Until Bucky is a sobbing, sweaty mess and riding Steve--and Steve, being the punk he is, makes him lean back and he knows, knows, _knows_ how that makes his cock slam right into his prostate with every thrust--and Bucky wails for permission. 

“Go ahead, little one,” Steve finally says. “Come for me. _Right now_.”

Bucky’s body listens beautifully. Of course, it does. It just sings for Steve and being good for him and all that pleasure rushes through him and catapults him to the heavens. Where everything is glowing and fluffy clouds blanket around him. 

When those clouds start to clear, Bucky realizes that he’s humming. It takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s a theme song to some superhero show from the 50s. Star-Spangled Man with a Plan, he thinks it’s called. He didn’t even realize he knew it so well. And he has no idea why he’s humming it. 

Then he feels someone shift and he adjusts himself so he can see what’s going on. What Bucky finds is that he’s in Steve’s arms and Steve’s chuckling. Which makes Bucky harumph and sulk. 

“You’re laughing at me.”

“No.” Steve chuckles some more. “I like it when you hum. You’re adorable. And I love you.” 

Eyebrows lifting in surprise, Bucky just blinks for a few seconds. “Do I…do I hum a lot?”

“Mm-mm.” Steve caresses the side of Bucky’s face. “But when you do it’s adorable.”

Okay, Bucky can live with that, and he snuggles into Steve’s embrace. The collar is still around his neck and Steve has the end of the leash in his hand.

“I think we should do this more,” Bucky murmurs, sleepily. He hooks their ankles and nuzzles against Steve’s chest. 

“Have sex?”

Bucky chuckles. “I’m always up for more sex, but I was actually thinking about this.” He flicks the leash. “I like this.” 

“I like it, too,” Steve agrees. “I like that you can’t get away from me.”

This makes Bucky smother a smile into Steve’s side. Not only does Bucky like that idea, too, he also doesn’t _want_ to get away from him. Something he keeps to himself for now, just because it’s his secret and he wants to keep it all to himself. 

There is one thing he wants to share. One thing he hopes Steve agrees with so that it happens again. And again and again. 

“It was a pretty good date night, wasn’t it?”

Steve chuckles and gives him a playful jostle, kissing the top of his head. “Yes, it was, little one. It really was.” 

“Think we can have another one like that?”

“Oh, Bucky Barnes, I’m counting on it.” 

***

To be honest, Bucky doesn’t have a lot of time to think about next month’s date night. He’s got a deadline and edits. Rewrites. Revisions. Reworkings. A ton of stress piled on top of a whole pile of stress he already had. 

Bucky’s been so freaking busy that he hasn’t even realized that a full month has already gone by and it’s date night once again. He only finds out when Steve stands behind him and starts rubbing his shoulders. In the middle of emailing his editor, Bucky’s a little startled at the touch but still melts right into it. The tension in his shoulders and knots in his back are killing him. 

“Mmm…” Bucky’s head rolls back. He didn’t even realize how tense he’d been until Steve started massaging. “That feels _amazing_.” 

Behind him, Steve chuckles and gently rests his chin over his head in such a way that when Bucky glances up, they catch eyes. 

“You about done for the night?”

“Uh.” Bucky glances back to his computer. “I can be. Do you want me to be?”

“Do you know what today is?”

One eyebrow pops up. Bucky thinks on that for a moment and when it dawns on him what he’d forgotten all about, he gasps. 

“It’s date night!” 

“Uh-ha.” Steve smiles. “You forgot all about me, huh?”

Bucky snorts with a roll of his eyes. “Of course not, punk. I’ve just been…”

“Distracted?” 

When Steve straightens again, he pulls off his T-shirt and tosses it aside. The breath in Bucky’s lungs freezes. He has no idea what Steve is suddenly half-naked, but he likes it and he’s not about to complain. 

“Are we skipping the date portion of the night, sir?” he asks and turns to watch Steve walk toward the kitchen. In only a pair of sweats. Hot damn, does that ass look good. 

“Nah.” He looks over his shoulder with a smirk. “I’m just gonna do some painting while you finish up.”

“Y-you’re painting?”

Oh, that’s just not fair. Steve knows how much Bucky’s turned on whenever he watches him paint. It’s unbelievable. The paint smearing on his fingers. That concentration. How the whole world becomes his. 

Deciding he can finish his email later, Bucky quickly closes his laptop and hurries to follow Steve into the kitchen. When he gets there, though, he’s a bit baffled at what he sees. 

Their small table is pushed to the other end of the room and there's a folding chain in the middle of the room. It’s on top of an old sheet. On the counter are a punch of paints and brushes. 

“What’s all this?” Bucky asks. “I thought you said you were painting.”

Leaned against the counter where his paints are, Steve folds his arms and grins. He wiggles his eyebrows, too, as though sharing a joke with Bucky. Only problem is, Bucky doesn’t get the joke.

“I am.”

“But…” Bucky points at all the things. “You don’t even have a canvas.”

“Yes, I do.” 

Steve pushes away from the counter now and what Bucky didn’t notice there a few seconds ago was the collar. Also ropes. A few bundles of ropes. Curling a finger at him to call him over, Steve smirks a little more. 

“Do you remember last month, little one?” Steve asks once Bucky is in front of him. “When I was on the phone and you decided that was the perfect time to do some yoga?”

Oh no.

Bucky gulps. Whimpers, “Y-yes, sir.”

“You didn’t think I’d let you get _away_ with that, did you?”

No, honestly, he didn’t. But since nothing happened the following day or the day after that or even the week after that, Bucky sort of figured Steve had forgotten about it. Enough, at least, to let it slide. Apparently, Bucky’s train of thought has been _way_ off.

“Well…” He pouts. “I just figured it led to…a really fun time. So…” 

“Ah.” 

That doesn’t seem to matter much. Steve just gets the collar and has Bucky turn around so he can put it on him. Bucky likes this one. Red leather. Buckles in the back. Solid and a heavy reminder while the leather is comfortable and easy to wear. 

Steve, lips right at Bucky’s ear, whispers, “Who do you belong to, Bucky Barnes?”

A soft, dreamy smile twitches at the corners of Bucky’s mouth. No matter what Steve has in store for him--and Bucky knows it’ll be deliciously tormenting--he’ll take it with all the trust in the world.

Once they’re finished with their normal preamble, Steve kisses the back of his neck and tells him to lift his arms. When Bucky does, Steve gently takes off his shirt and then lowers both his pants and boxers. Bucky steps out of them. Now completely naked, Steve brings his arms behind his back. Already familiar in how this goes, Bucky stays as still as possible and remains completely silent as Steve works, tying his arms and wrists together in complicated and intricate knots. 

For Steve, Shibari is another form of art. One he takes very seriously. Not just the creative process and results, but doing it safely. It’s why Bucky’s not allowed to speak right now. Steve’s concentration to every last detail is extremely important to him. 

By the time he’s finished securing Bucky’s arms behind his back, Steve helps him into the folding chair. There, Steve uses more rope to loop around the knots and down his legs to physically tie Bucky to the chair. Then he stands back up and walks around Bucky completely, admiring what he’s done. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. “You’re beautiful, little one.” 

Even when he’s got him naked and tied to a chair, Steve always finds a way to make Bucky blush. And he does again. Right up to the very tips of his ears and since he’s currently naked and tied to a chair, he can do nothing to hide the flush to his skin. Steve chuckles and gently takes hold of Bucky’s chin between this thumb and fingers. He coaxes his gaze up. Bucky grins, so in love with this man he might burst into a million glittery pieces. 

“You okay, little one?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky whispers. “Very okay.”

“Good.” Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s brow. “Cause now, I’m gonna make you into art.” 

A whimper catches in Bucky’s throat when Steve moves away and gets the supplies from the counter. Steve dips one of the brushes into the red paint and the second he comes near Bucky with it, Bucky clenches his belly and bursts out laughing. He, in fact, laughs so hard, that it makes Steve laugh in suit. 

“I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Since his arms are bound and his legs are tied to the chair, all Bucky can do is flail his fingers and kick his feet. 

“But you’re gonna!” 

“Yes.” Steve, devilish smirk on his face, nods. “I am.” 

When he inches the brush closer again, Bucky still starts laughing even though he still hasn’t touched him. Bucky laughs so much that tears prick the corners of his eyes and his sides begin to hurt. 

“Steve, please!” he begs through giggles. “Stop! Please, I’m sorry!”

“I haven’t done anything yet, babe.” Steve is still smiling like a son-of-a-bitch. “You’re gonna have to feel it eventually.” 

“ _No_ …” Bucky whines. “Oh, no, please, sir, I won’t do it again, I swear!”

Steve clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep, little one. It’ll just get you in trouble.”

Head tilted back, Bucky whines and whimpers some more, and then gasps when something cold and wet touches his belly. He howls with laughter when that something starts moving across his ticklish skin. Steve ignores his pleas for mercy and just continues to tickle him by painting something across his stomach. He even pauses to scold him for moving so much. 

“Now look what you’re making me do, little one,” he playfully reprimands. “How am I supposed to finish my painting when you’re jerking around like that?” 

In some crazy attempt to control himself, Bucky holds his breath, but only manages to do so for a few seconds before Steve realizes what he’s doing. 

“Don’t do that, Bucky,” he says, voice holding a bit more dominance than it has been. “Breathe, little one.”

Bucky lets out the air in his lungs and pants, his breathing slowly easing into a normal pace. That doesn’t last very long since the very second Steve inches toward him with that paintbrush--this time with blue paint--Bucky just starts laughing all over again. This time, instead of painting on his tummy, he paints his inner thighs. Just as ticklish. Or less. Or more. Bucky can’t be sure.

All he knows is this desperate need to escape the tickling, but he can’t get anywhere. It’s useless as he yanks against the rope trying to pull his legs away from Steve. And yet, at the same time, the bondage, the helpless struggling, the dominance exercised over him, Steve using him for his own enjoyment and pleasure, it’s just a huge turn on and Bucky’s so aroused that he doesn’t know if he should keep begging for the tickling to stop or start begging to be touched. 

Steve doesn’t let up just yet, though. He cleans his brush and selects a thicker one, dipping it in green paint and running in just above Bucky’s collarbones. Normally, that’s not the post ticklish spot, but since he’s wild with oversensitivity, the slightest touch will drive him crazy. 

And to make matters worse, when Steve decides he’s done there, he washes his brush, gets some yellow paint, and goes for the soles of Bucky’s feet. His toes. In between them. 

Bucky _howls_ with laughter and because Steve has his bound in such a way that he can’t even press his feet flat on the floor, there’s nothing he can do to stop this. Well, there is, of course, he can always say red or yellow. But he doesn’t want to use a safeword. No matter how tormenting this is, he can’t deny that it’s also fun. 

“Please, sir, _please_!” he cries. “I’m begging you! Mercy! Mercy, please!”

“All I’m tryin’ to do is make some art,” Steve says as he continues his tickling. “You’re the one making a fuss over it.”

“But...but, I--”

Bucky chokes on the rest of his sentence when Steve’s hand gently strokes over his leaking cock. By this point, between the paint on the brushes and all of Bucky’s squirming, he’s got paint all over his hand. Which means when he moves it up and over Bucky’s erection, he gets it on him there, too.

The sudden change in sensation makes Bucky’s mind all fuzzy. His head rolls back. Within minutes, Bucky’s completely breathless. Completely lost to this new pleasure. Ready to let it consume him if Steve’ll allow him that.

“Sir…” he whispers. Whimpers. Moans. “I wanna… _mmm_ …please, can I…” 

“Mm-mm.” Steve doesn’t take his hand away, but he slows his stroking, lightens his grip. “Not yet.” 

Frustration runs through Bucky. He’d been so close. Needed it so badly only to have Steve deny him but not stop. Bucky’s not sure which is worse. 

Instead of working back into a quicker rhythm and closing his hand around him more, Steve continues this way. Just the soft, light touching. The gentleness. He allows Bucky to thrust his hips along with it, even though that’s not all that much since he’s a bit…tied up at the moment. Steve keeps touching. All the light, soft touches. Over and over and over. Until he’s trembling and whimpering and nearly sobbing. 

“Oh, god, please, sir…” Bucky grinds his teeth. “Please, lemme come…”

“No, little one.”

Steve switches the touches again. Now, he simply runs the tips over his fingers over the head of Bucky’s cock, and Bucky tosses his head back and _does_ sob. 

“I wanna come, sir,” Bucky weeps. “I need to…I…”

“You need what I say you need,” Steve says, still touching, as he reaches over and gently lifts Bucky’s head back up so he can look right into his eyes. “And if I say you’ll wait, what’re you gonna do?”

Lip trembling, Bucky sniffles and nods, and produces a weak and very shaky, “I’ll wait, sir.”

“That’s my good boy.” 

As soon as he gives the praise, Steve takes Bucky fully in his hand again, a good grip, and strokes fast. Pleasure rushes through Bucky quick and sudden and he gasps, unsure if he has what it takes to stay good and hold back until Steve gives him permission. 

“Please!” he exclaims. “Oh, please, sir! SIr, I…I can’t… _oh_ , I need to come, sir, please say I can!”

“Don’t you _dare_.” 

Bucky wails through his teeth. Every muscle in his entire body is pulled taut. Fingers curled into tight fists. Toes curled in the sheet beneath him. A few tears leak out of the corners of his eyes as he does everything he can think of to hold this orgasm back. 

“No…” he pleads with his body. To listen. To obey. To be good. “No, please…please, no, no, no…” 

But it’s too much. It’s all too much and Bucky’s body does exactly what it wants with or without Steve’s permission. 

Rapture. Bliss. Unyielding peace that washes through him, and no matter how badly Bucky wants to feel guilty for coming without permission, right now all he can feel is the pleasure. So, so, _so_ much pleasure that just gushes through him at once and somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he needs to apologize but he…he… 

“Oh, no!” Bucky shrieks when Steve starts running the paintbrush over the sole of his foot again. “No, Steve! Oh, no, no, please!”

Body completely confused by two entirely different sensations, Bucky has no idea how to process this. What to feel. What to do. 

“Did I tell you you could come, little one?”

“N-no!” Bucky shakes his head wildly. “I’m s-sorry! Oh, please, have mercy, sir, I’m s-so sor-ry!” 

With one last added chuckle, and a few more strokes of the brush, Steve finally stops the infernal tickling. There’re still tears in Bucky’s eyes and he’s panting and trembling, and even whimpers with a soft cringe when Steve’s hand comes close to him again. 

All he does this time, though, is cup Bucky’s cheek. Bucky can feel some paint smear across his skin. He gives Steve a meek but adoring smile. 

“That was so mean, sir,” he whines. 

Steve laughs and steps behind him, crouching down to start untying the knots. Once he frees Bucky’s arms and legs, he massages his shoulders. Kisses the top of his head. Hugs him.

“Don’t you think I’ll make it up to you, little one?”

“Yes, sir,” he whispers. “I do.”

Despite the tickling that both interrupted his orgasm while also heightening all the fun, Bucky’s feeling awfully weightless. Even after Steve gently wipes the paint off the bottoms of his feet--proving that he’s very capable of _not_ tickling him if he doesn’t want to--Bucky needs to lean against him as he helps him into the bathroom. 

“No shower,” Steve says as he sits him at the side of the tub and turns the water on. “I want you to sit in the tub.”

“How come?”

Steve turns a smile his way. “You can’t even tell sometimes.”

“Hm?”

Steve chuckles. “Your eyes are unfocused. You’re swaying. Your speech is a little slurred.” He presses a soft kiss to Bucky’s lips and when he moves away, Bucky tries to follow. The only reason he doesn’t slip off the side of the tup is Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “Maybe not full subspace, but definitely the edges of it.”

“Oh.” Bucky giggles, and then feels silly so he tries to stop but that only makes him giggle some more. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, little one. I want you to feel good.” He helps him into the tub now. “But I always want to keep you safe, too. So. Just relax.” 

So Bucky does. He leans back and lets Steve wash him. There’s something sweet and nice about watching all the colors run off his skin and into the water. Like him and Steve swirling together to make something new and unique and beautiful. He smiles at it, running the tips of his fingers through the water. 

“What’re you thinkin’ about there, little one?”

“Nothing,” Bucky murmurs. “Just that I love you.”

“Mm.” Steve smiles and touches Bucky’s chin. “I love you, too, Bucky.” 

“Also, I’m startin’ to think that date night should be every night.”

This sees Steve laugh as he helps Bucky back to his feet to rinse him off. He wraps him in a big towel to dry him when he’s done. 

“As much as I’d love that, little one,” he says, “I don’t think we’d ever get anything done.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve gotten used to eating, so I figured we do it again tomorrow. Plus, then we can help other people who need to eat, too.”

Bucky scoffs and snorts and groans all at the same time and drops his brow against Steve’s shoulder. Leave it to this guy to deny Bucky’s request for sex-all-day-everyday for a humanitarian’s reason. He couldn’t be more perfect if he tried. No matter how imperfect he is. 

“Fuck, I love you.”

Steve kisses him again and chuckles and wraps his arms around him as he leads him back into the living room. Still in just a towel. He doesn’t say why. And that’s okay.

Date nights.

The wheels in Bucky’s mind are already turning on how to spice up next month’s. 


End file.
